


Where the Wildest Things Are

by MitzyBlue



Series: The Boneyard Medic [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Becoming A Parent, Blood and Violence, If this is a bad idea clap your hands, Kidnapping, M/M, Slow Burn, let's all be vigilantes, rating is for violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:03:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15062624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MitzyBlue/pseuds/MitzyBlue
Summary: Bones was just your average mutant in a fucked up world. That is until the war came to a head and he was forced through a portal leading into another timeline. One were mutants really didn't exist but aliens did. Coming to terms with his new life and all that it holds-- Bones finds that for once he actually has a reason to want to live. Three of them in fact.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story happened by accident, I swear. I've actually had the first section finished for a while and just wasn't sure I wanted to, you know, put it where people could see it. Fun fact: like a good portion of my unshared stories it started off with a really wacky dream and just kinda evolved and boiled out of control and into a story that I get dragged behind like some poor bloke with their foot caught in the stirrup of a run-away horse. WELL THEN, I hope you like my runaway horse. (did that make sense? Oh god I hope so.)

“Pres! ...Presto?!” Bones shielded his face as a window to one of the nearby burning buildings blew outwards like a giant belching glass shards in his face. “Pres?!”

“BONES!” a hand grabbed Bones, tugging him out of the chaos and into the momentary calm of the old curio shop that Presto had run before the world went to hell. “Spirits man are you actively TRYING to get killed?! I know you can heal damn near anything but they’re raining death out there!”

Bones gripped Presto’s arm, holding himself up as his muscles threatened to collapse after his run through the rubbled remains of the city. “They’re bombing it. Everything. The Boneyard already got hit. No one survived. Jockey says the next set will be here in maybe thirty minutes at most and that warning came in fifteen minutes ago.”

“Goddess.” Presto rubbed a hand over his lips, smudging more soot across his dark skin. “Everyone?”

Bones let go and braced himself on his knees as he gave a tired nod. “They’ve already done the entire west side. The eastern safehouses are all that’s left.”

Presto sagged, defeat weighing more than any of them could carry. “Then it’s over. ...unless…”

“No.” Bones re-gripped Presto’s arm as his heart skipped rope in his throat. “ _No_. We can go into the tunnels and gather with Gina’s safehouse. Harvey can hold up a portion of the wall and Genever can filter the air. We can--”

“We can’t.” Presto gave his hand a squeeze before backing towards the stairs. “Genever-- she got too close to the flames. Rosa’s is gone. We’re the last safehouse left. It’s the only option.”

Bones followed, trying to formulate an argument even as they thumped down the stairs towards what was now the last bunker. “We don’t even know where it really goes! People could end up anywhere-- you said it yourself. _And_ you almost died last time we tried! We can’t just--”

The first rumble of explosions hit causing the walls to vibrate and cutting him short. Presto was already well ahead of him down the tunnel where the handful of survivors had holed up. Though his heart protested every move, Bones limped over and set to tugging off the covers to the stabilizer that they’d built when the war first started.

“Bones?” Harvey fell into helping them as he searched Bones’ face for answers to unasked questions. “...it’s gone, isn’t it?”

Bones paused, afraid to really look the man in the eye before he pulled the necklace from his pocket and handed it over. Harvey took the small object stoically, pausing only for moment before returning to prepping the machine. There were no more tears left for any of them to cry it seemed, though Bones could feel the familiar tightness to his own throat as he worked.

There had to be another way.

He was still thinking of plans when Presto stepped forward, gripped the handles, and opened their last hope. After seeing Presto’s nod, Bones began ushering people through the rapidly flickering portal even as the ground shook harder. The next one would hit close enough to collapse it all. This was it. Once everyone was through, he stepped back.

“What are you doing? Go through!” Presto snarled, barely hanging onto the handles as he sagged.

“I’m staying.” Bones said as he tugged Presto up and pressed his face to Presto’s shoulder. He was terrified and hoped his voice didn’t show it as he spoke over the raising rumble of what would be the final bomb, “I’m-- I’d rather spend the end with you and not in some other dimension pretending to make a new life.”

Presto shifted in his arms, moving to cup Bones’ face with one shaking hand. “You’re a damn fool.”

Bones closed eyes as Presto kissed him. Trying to make the moment last as long as he could since they were likely going to die in the next few seconds anyhow. He could feel as Presto’s hand slid down to his chest, fisting for a moment in the fabric…

And then he was shoved backwards.

 

~~~

 

Kelly looked upwards, her ginger brows knitting together with her frown as she asked, “Commander? Do you hear that?”

Shepard was already heading for one of the emergency suits, grabbing one for herself off the wall and tossing the second one towards Kelly as she answered, “I do. EDI is it a hull breach? Did we hit something? Collectors? Report damn it!”

Joker was the one to answer, calling back over his shoulder as well as using the ship’s comm, “Everything’s in the green commander. Nothing's wrong with the ship. I don’t know what the hell’s going on.”

“Mr. Moreau is correct.” EDI added, her volume raising to try and speak over the growing sound, “The ship’s condition remains unchanged and the audio is not coming from any known frequencies.”

The noise-- now much like a freighter jet passing low through the hills back on earth-- seemed to ramp up before there was a pop, flash, and a few yelps. The silence felt defening after the previous roar and everyone was still blinking away the afterimages before beginning to realize that something had changed.

A man who was definitely not part of the crew and most certainly hadn’t been there previously was gracelessly attempting to unfold himself from the floor as he groaned. He seemed obliviously unconcerned with the fact that he was now on a ship with a healthy portion of the crew pulling out their emergency weapons-- including Shepard-- and instead flopped upward and leaned against the control base with his head in his hands.

“I’ve got two questions for you,” Shepard said as she stood above him with one hand holding a gathering glow of biotic energy and the other gripping her pistol. “Who are you, and how the hell did you get on my ship?”

He looked up-- a scarred and poorly bandaged hand pushing back wavy silver hair with obtrusively red tips-- only to pause halfway in his action. Staring at the gun currently aimed at his face, his pale skin flecked with freckles and a healthy amount of dirt, somehow managed to pale inhumanly further as he gaped at them.

The armory door opened, the only thing breaking the silence as Miranda and Jacob slunk out already in full gear and a nod at Shepard as they edged into position on either side of her. When the man on the floor didn’t answer, Shep smacked the console near his head with the butt of her pistol. The crack of sound made him jump.

“I asked you a goddamn question,” she snarled.

“Sorry? Uh… did you say ship?”

The question caused a ripple of mixed results from the crew. Shared glances and a few whispers. With the sound gone and no terrifying or immediate threat people were calming down. This being the Normandy-- strange happenings weren’t completely new. After all, the ship was filled to the brim with various random races and they were planning on going through the Omega 4 Relay soon to fight things that were little more than horror story myths. A random man appearing on deck was odd but certainly not worse than bugs that paralyzed and stole entire colonies so people were handling his appearance with relative finesse and only a small amount of suspicion.

Well, everyone but Shepard.

“Yes. Ship.” Shepard answered in a tone cold enough to cause glaciers to shiver.

The man puffed a breath before once more pushing his hair back seemingly unphased by her attitude. His gaze was unfocused and wandered around the floor like a drunk vorcha as he hummed. “Hm. You’re sure? Hm. Course you’re sure. Course. Okay…” a frown drew over the man’s face like a curtain slowly covering the sun and the seconds ticked by till someone awkwardly cleared their throat-- causing him to jerk and look up. “Oh, sorry. You asked a question?”

Shepard grunted, staring daggers at the poor bastard before scowling towards Miranda, “I’m gonna shoot ‘em.”

“Uh--” “Commander--” “Are you sure--”

Various voices-- EDI, Jacob, Miranda, Kelly and even a few of the lower ranking crew all clamored for a brief second before she raised a fist. Mouths snapped shut as she looked around. “Fine. Get him off my bridge. I’ve got another report to finish before we reach the citadel. Don’t need this shit.”

~~~

Bones leaned back on the floor and stretched out, staring at the boring bolted grey ceiling to the broom closet ‘brig’ he’d been tossed into as he considered his options. When they’d first said ‘ship’ he’d assumed that leaving would be as simple as finding a quiet moment and then jumping overboard. However, the addition of ‘space’ to that equation… well he’d never exactly considered trying to master a backstroke in zero gravity. Or holding his breath for longer than a few minutes.

 _Were you supposed to hold your breath in space or try to breath out everything?_ He vaguely remembered one of the bar patrons actually talking about that at some point. Bright lad who was always hanging out because his uncle was the owner and during the day the bar was a remarkably quiet place for study. The boy wanted to work for one of the space programs and always rambled about whatever he’d recently learned. Good tipper. As Bones contemplated his situation he wondered if he should have paid more attention… of course he never expected to be shoved through a portal into another dimension.

Heaving a sigh, he rolled over to his side and curled tighter under his scarf. He’d been wearing it since nearly the beginning of the war when Presto had given it to him and Bones had given one in return. It was practical. Just big enough to work as a blanket. The fabric smelled vaguely of ash and there were singed spots scattered among the words stitched into the red cloth but at least it kept away some of the metal chill-- if not the slowly growing fears and hunger from being locked in the small room for what felt like well over a day.

He should be grateful. The thought spiraled in his head as he stared at the wall.  When staring at the wall offered no comfort, he sat up and began to fuss with the hasty bandage he’d wrapped around his wrist after losing his glove to the rubble and flames. Like the scarf, it too was stained. A soft brown tinge of dried blood plus the black soot smudges from the fires. The bandage was by no means clean but he wasn’t worried about an infection since the wound was old. More truthfully he was just trying to occupy his mind as it slowly frayed apart, much like the fabric wrapped around his scarred hand.

His fussing was interrupted by the feeling of being watched. It crawled along his spine like an unwelcome droplet of sweat. Part of him was used to being watched. As an eye-candy bartender in a gay bar it tended to happen. However, this watching felt… different. Like a predator sizing up prey. He’d felt it before. Didn’t care for it then, didn’t care for it now.

Trying to remain as relaxed as possible, he glanced up in search of the source. The small window-- vertical metal blinds that could be flipped from bars to wall at the press of a button were partially open. A silhouette stood just beyond. From the look of it, they didn’t seem to care whether Bones saw them or not-- though they did shift when he looked up. For a brief moment there was a flick of light illuminating a scarred face before the light cut away again and the person spoke.

“Shepard asked if I could get some answers,” the silhouette paused before raising their fists and slowly beginning a typically ‘threatening’ knuckle crack, “I’m not usually one for interrogation but I owe the lil bitch.”

 _Well if this brute thought he could get information by being rough_ \--

Bones’ thoughts were cut short as the door slid open to reveal not one but two people. One of them _very_ not human. Though Bones hadn’t met or even really seen another one of the more appearance based mutants, he knew that the more exotic a mutant looked the more dangerous they typically were. If it wasn’t their powers it was simply their desperation to not be caught or found.

The mutant stepped slowly into the room like a green-skinned cat. They were all silky grace as they spoke in a voice that sounded like a heavy smoker speaking through a fan, “and I have been asked to… assist.”

 _Please don’t be a mind reader. Or some sort of truth serum. Or--_ Bones folded his hands and took a deep breath. Whatever it was-- he knew he could get out if they got too rough. And, of course, if worse came to worse, being spaced might not be pleasant but he’d take that over the alternatives. In fact, a very grim part of him looked forward to it.

With that firmly in mind he forced a smile and waved at the empty floorspace nearby. “You’ve only to ask. Please, come in. I’d say pull up a stool but...”

 

~~~

 

Zaeed shared a glance with Thane. Though Shepard had asked them to ‘interrogate’ the prisoner-- something they both weren’t 100% behind-- they hadn’t expected a smile and polite invitation into the room before they’d even really goddamn begun. Really threw off the whole good cop, bad cop routine they’d agreed to try. After nearly thirty minutes of somehow benign chatter, the little bastard had them really flummoxed.

They’d effectively learned very little and even ended up talking more about themselves. Of course there were other ‘options’ but Zaeed had never been comfortable with torture for torture’s sake and Bones had been perfectly polite. No point in it really at this point. With a jerk of his head, Zaeed silently motioned for Thane to join in him the hall for a quick regroup and maybe even a goodamn brainstorm.

“He seems... well, I wish to say trained but it seems more complicated than that,” Thane said as soon as the door was closed, his voice low enough not to carry.

Zaeed grunted, short of wasting a cigar on the poor bastards skin and strait up mauling him-- he wasn’t sure how to get more. Even then, torture only really got someone to agree with whatever you asked them not give you actual information. “Too damn polite. Keep expecting the bastard to offer me tea or someshit.”

“Indeed. … do you think we should continue or notify Mordin that he can come take the samples while we speak to Shepard?”

He licked his lips before jerking his head towards the elevator. “Let’s head up. Think we’ll be pulling into the citadel soon anyhow. EDI, let Mordin know we’re done and he can start...whatever the fuck he does.”

 _With any luck Butch also has had time to bloody calm down_ , he added to himself as they locked the tiny prison and headed for the elevator. Shep was notorious for having a short temper-- almost more dangerous than Jack in his opinion-- and a low tolerance for scares. Apparently thinking the bloody deck was about to pop like a ripe melon to space her-- _again_ \-- counted as a ‘scare’. Gods help those poor bastards up in the CIC because she’d been in a well and truly frightening mood since yesterday. Even Grunt had tried to make himself scarce which honestly said worlds.

That, of course, reminded him that he needed to check in with Kasumi on where the betting pool was now for when Grunt would slip up and call Shepard ‘mom’. He had forty credits running on it being sometime during or just after the relay mission but Grunt had nearly broken that goddam bet when they’d fought a thresher maw and he’d gotten overly hyped. Got out a full “M” before switching to ‘battlemaster’. Cheeky bastard. Not like the money mattered with what the Illusive fucknut was paying him but it was the principal.

“How’s your kid?” Zaeed asked, since thoughts of progeny were on his mind and the damn elevator was too quiet for his brain.

Thane shifted, his posture stiffening into his typical structured ‘ _I’m uncomfortable but trying to be friendly_ ’ pose as he answered. “He is doing well, though he still has not fully forgiven me. We are at least speaking to each other.”

More that Zaeed was doing with his own son. Sometimes when he was really drunk he’d stare at the comm address he’d dug up ages back but nothing ever came of it and he was a coward when it came to things like this. With a shrug he said, “Shit takes time.”

A soft hum of agreement was all Thane’s answer. Probably for the best. Zaeed could have given an attempted guess at what went through Thane’s head in reply since he was one of the few who knew about Thane’s illness. An illness that gave him exactly less of the thing that shit seemed to take. Time. The assassin didn’t talk about it much but you could tell that his illness hung like a scythe above his head with a fraying rope. Couldn’t blame the guy for wanting to go out in style but it was a damn shame to do so after only just reconnecting with family. Kind of cruel, really.

The door the Shepard’s cabin was wedged open with a boot in the sensor panel-- her sign she was accepting visitors-- when the elevator opened to deposit them into the little hall. Zaeed took the lead, knocking on the wall to let her know that he and Thane were there before grabbing a beer from under her desk and heading for the couch. Strange working with someone who’d earned not only his begrudging friendship but goddamn trust as well. Helped that she kept the necessities stocked.

“Be a min!” She called from the bathroom.

“Take your time, Butch.”

The water started up and he had just smacked down the sealant marble in the bottle when she called, “Have a fresh case under my desk if you want a beer.”

He grinned into his sip as he offered out the second bottle to Thane who took it with his typical stiff nod and wandered to the fish tank. It was a good sign if she’d gone for a shower. Maybe it was a military thing but damn girl seemed like she could just wash anger off sometimes. That or she kept a bottle of hard stuff hidden in there. Might explain a few things…

Didn’t really matter though.

While they waited, Zaeed nursed his drink, dug out a cigarette and pulled over the little ashtray Shepard had picked up on Omega. Tali swore that Shep had used the damn thing to kill an asari but Zaeed hadn’t really pegged the Quarian’s sense of humor just yet and he didn’t want to fall for something that sounded that bullshit. …Then again he wouldn’t put it past Shepard. Afterall, she kept the nickname Butch for a reason. He still remembered the day he was watching the news in a little dive bar in Omega when the reporter called her Butcher of Torfan to her goddamn face. Ballsy thing to do. Bastard couldn’t have had much goddamn common sense if you ask Zaeed but it turned out well enough. That reporter’s nose was still a little crooked but it looked like the face surgery had been successful. Good for them.

It wasn’t too much longer before Butch finally emerged, Two towels and a whole lot of leg. Had to love a military woman. Most of them lost shame and fucks to give back in training. Don’t know when she lost hers but she marched across the room near naked and started picking things from various drawers as she asked, “So? Who is he?”

Thane set down the beer he’d been holding, leaning his hips on the edge of the desk as he spoke, “He claims to be a bartender from Earth that goes by the name of Bones.”

Zaeed tapped out the last of his cig, taking time to crush the embers before jumping in to the conversation. “Think he said his last name was Sawyer.”

When they added nothing else, Butch got that deadly ‘a storm is coming’ freeze and paused in her fussing. “And?”

Thane shook his head, unfolding and returning to watching the fish-- probably trying not to make eye contact with the embers-turning-to-wildfire in the corner-- and said, “he seems sincere but avoids questions usually by asking one of his own. Miss Lawson may have better--”

“Fuck her.”

Okay, good to know Butch still hadn’t quite cooled down about that catfight Jack and Miranda had a few days back. He’d been _really_ hoping that one of her showers had helped.

Thane simply dipped his head and went back to being silent. Possibly zoning out or even--

“ _Smells faintly of smoke_ \--” Thane began and Zaeed realized that in an effort to gain more information he was going to relive some of the memory aloud-- “ _crimson silk pools on the floor. Surprise and fear ripple like a pond disturbed before hidden behind a polite smile. Flashes of silver, a curtain to hide the scars. His hands fidget with a dirty bandage as he answers._ ”

Zaeed raised a brow. Waiting. Thane was quiet until Butch crossed her arms and cocked her hip in the tell-tale sign that she was running short of patience.

“Most notable are the amount of physical scars on his right side. Aside from the physical, the man is guarded. I’m sorry Shepard, from what I saw he was truly scared but attempting to hide it. If there is ill intent he masks it well.”

She huffed before turning back towards the drawer. By the flashes of blue he was guessing she was thinking of wearing the business suit Miranda had helped her get. She only wore that when she was going up to the presidium to visit Anderson which Zaeed already knew she was planning. Not surprising, but by the fuss she must have other plans afterwards. Probably a date.

When she pulled up the black dress from Kasumi and regarded it with a frown, he hid his grin behind another swig of his drink. That thing always meant she was hitting the club. Probably intended to get laid, shitfaced, or both before they go through the relay and had finally given up on Vakarian who was still holled up in his goddamn weapons room. Pity. Zaeed had bets on them shacking up soon.

Eventually she pulled out the black dress as well as the stiff blue jacket from her suit and set to getting dressed as she asked, “You said he smelled of smoke?”

Thane nodded and Zaeed piped up, “Wasn’t shuttle-fire type. More like… bonfire on the beach with trash. Not goddam great but not the worst. Think it means something?”

“Hm. Maybe. Did you let Mordin know you were--”

“Commander,” EDI interrupted, “there is an issue with the prisoner.”

Butch paused in the middle of adjusting a strap on a rather… expensive looking set of underwear. “Report.”

“Mr Moreau and I are reviewing the footage but the prisoner appears to no longer be in the cell. Shall I notify the crew?”

“Goddammit!” Shep snarled before jerking the cabinet holding her armor open. As she snapped on the under armor she met Zaeed’s gaze and jerked her head towards the door. “Yes. Find the bastard. I want everyone on this goddamn ship looking.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

The phrase ‘ _I have made a terrible mistake’_ was not one that Bones usually thought or uttered. True, he had been more reckless than usual-- which honestly didn’t say much with him-- but as he plummeted and the docks shrank away, he did vaguely regret… well, everything.

It had been when he was listening to them speak outside the door. Their voices had been low enough that he had to strain but what he’d heard about someone wanting samples was enough to make him decide that he’d stayed too long. After-all it would be easier if he could ease into a new place instead of popping into it like a damn party favor and making everyone curious.

Of course, his first real mistake had been to try and escape on what he was fairly sure was a sentient ship. His second mistake had been underestimating the red-haired human and her temper. The bars-- left open-- had been no problem for him to slip through. In fact, he’d made it as far as the cargo bay and even managed to get the door open before Shepard found him. This time though she hadn’t had a pistol. No. Instead she had a fierce snarl and a shotgun which she’d used without even a second’s hesitation.

That however-- like many other things-- had not killed him. It definitely hurt, but when he tumbled out of the ship’s open hatch it had been onto some sort of catwalk or loading dock. Bleeding and more than a little terrified by the bloodthirsty woman, he’d stumbled his way past mutants and humans carrying boxes until he’d found a place only he could squeeze through. A safe place to hide behind some crates while he tried to heal.

Then he’d slipped on his own damn blood.

Now he was falling. Air in the ears and the inevitable coming up quick. There was always the question of ‘would _this_ kill me’ but so far he’d never found the ‘yes.’ In fact, for a time he’d been happy enough to stop wondering. He’d found a home. Love.

His last thought before he hit the ground was how his entire world was gone. When Bones woke he found that the fall had not killed him but it certainly was really, really painful. In the darkness of the alley, he curled tight on the ground lacking even the small comfort of his scarf as he tried to heal away the pain.

“Come oooon,” a young voice said from somewhere nearby. “Stop being such babies and help me see if they’re okay.”

“They just fell out of the sky!” hissed another young voice, “there is no way they’re okay. Let’s go before a keeper comes. You know they make Niia cry.”

“You’re both wimps!”

“Yeah? Then go on your own!”

Small stomping footsteps approached as the speaker mumbled, “Babies. ...Jerk. ...ew, you’re bleeding all over…”

Bones couldn’t help it. He laughed. Voice raspy, he uncoiled and pulled his mangled feeling body up; moving and trying to scoot to sit against the wall in a more humanoid fashion as he spoke, “That happens… far more than I’d like.”

Small hands tugged and pushed in an effort to help him get to the wall as the child asked, “You’re actually alive? How’d you fall like that?”

“Gravity.”

They snorted. “You’re an ass. ...you gonna be okay?”

 _I don’t know._ Bones grit back a pained grunt as the world started to become hazy and he could feel consciousness slipping. “...I’ll... live.”

 

~~~ A Month Later ~~~

 

Kolyat grumbled under his breath as he used the stick Bailey had ‘provided’ as part of his cover to stab one of the nearby pieces of trash as he listened in on the conversations around him. For a moment he thought of not sticking the trash into the bag strapped to his waist for him to carry around like some sort of pack animal. Insead he eyed the nearest trash incinerator.  Of course that would mean his bag would be too empty if someone actually started paying attention to him so pack animal he’d have to be if he didn’t want to blow this job too and end up doing something worse. Still, for every piece of trash he picked up he grumbled his opinion on how exactly people found it impossible to walk the two steps over to the panel to dispose of their garbage.

At least he wasn’t scrubbing turian vomit or vorcha piss off the lower ward walls again. Thank Arashu that Bailey hadn’t assigned him that again. He still had to actively repress the memory of the smell and there was a stain on his leathers to always remind him of the experience.  

People still told him he should be thankful-- THANKFUL-- like doing THIS was some kind of gift. Like they’d done him a favor. Sure things hadn’t been great before but he’d been so close to his goal. If only his father and that hell-bitch had been a few minutes slower. Kolyat grit his teeth as the memory replayed unbidden along with the vague roll of terror and phantom pain of Shepard shooting him that he always felt when it came to anytime he had to face Commander Shepard. He had to blink it away, physically shaking himself and flexing his arm to rid the memory from his senses as he stabbed at another piece of trash. By now the Normandy had gone through the relay like his father had spoken about and he’d never hear from them again.

The worst part… he _was_ grateful to some extent. That fact stung like shards of glass being rubbed in an open wound. He’d spoken to his father. Exchanged strained and too polite letters. A few uncomfortable vidcalls and the final awkward dinner before the Normandy left, likely for it’s final hurrah.

He, to some extent, _understood_. Thane had been open in explaining why he couldn’t abandon this mission. There were so many lives at stake and this was one more chance for Thane to right the things he considered wrong. Still, a part of Kolyat railed against it. That same angry and alone part of him that felt the same way he had when his mother had died. Once again he was left alone to make a life on his own as his father went off to die on some impossible suicide mission. Like a little kid, he felt as if he wanted to stomp his foot and scream about how unfair it fucking was.

A rise in the laughter from the group that he was supposed to be shadowing caught his attention. To hide his glance at the group he knelt and toyed with a dextro wrapper that had been sitting by one of the planters. Shit as his luck was-- they were advancing on what looked to be a lone human who’d gotten stupid and decided to walk the wards alone.

It was fairly well known by most who lived here that shit happened down in the lower wards and it was only getting worse since the attack on the citadel two years back. Kolyat had spent over a day in the training course learning specifically how to handle finding the bodies that would sometimes crop up. Crime scene calls to C-Sec, which datafiles to fill out, how to stop the keepers from taking or moving the body-- It was a lot of hassle that he really didn’t want to bother with when tomorrow was going to be his day off. Especially when a body meant he’d have to travel to some randomized location to give a report in person while still trying to keep his cover.

Of course _this_ particular group was supposed to only be responsible for some light vandalism and roughing up a few people. No murders. No danger. Bailey had been pretty clear that Kolyat was to stay away from the more dangerous groups and to definitely not interact with them if they DID get hostile with someone. Of course, sitting back and doing nothing while someone got the everloving shit kicked out of them didn’t really sit too well with Kolyat.

He still remembered that night with his father. The first time he’d seen him in years. “ _Kolyat, I’ve taken many bad things out of this world. You’re the only good thing I ever added to it._ ”

The memory hitched his breath and the feelings hit him all over again. Arm aching. Blood dripping down the inside of his sleeve. Lights flashing on the walls. Angry tears on his cheeks and so much damn emotion balled up in his chest that he felt like he couldn’t breathe. That close he could smell that familiar handmade gun oil his father used.

Digging himself out of the memory left him feeling ill and shaky. He knew in time he’d be able to recall it perhaps not as something positive but at least impassionately. This however, was like the memories of his mother’s death before he learned how to hold them down like alcohol vomit during a job interview.

His father’s words that night had driven him to try and be a better person. Be that good thing in the damn world that his father thought he was. It made him want to do the things that might make the father he never knew be proud of him. With explicit instructions not to get involved that was a little difficult. Of course, what Bailey didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

After unbuckling the belt holding his trash bags and shoving it into one of the secret groundskeeper panels in the side of the planter, Kolyat tugged out the mask he’d bought from a little earth customs and trinkets shop. It fit snug, making his gils press tight and he had to breath through either his mouth or nose, but it kept people from being able to identify him so it was better than the alternative. He could have done without the goofy name that people had given him because of the mask though, but he couldn’t really complain without risking people finding out.  

With the mask in place and his other gear stashed he sprang into action. Over the past couple months he’d been training with his roommate-- one of the few people who knew about his extracurricular activities-- and he’d drastically improved since that night that his father had jumped into his damn life again.  Of all the improvements was his aim, even though he’d sworn off guns and killing. One flick of his wrist and one of the darts prepped with ‘homemade’ drell venom hit the largest of the group. He didn’t have enough to put down the whole group but at least he could get the most dangerous ones out of the way to even his odds before leaping in.

Firing up a C-Sec override program on his omni-tool, he shut down half the street’s lighting as he sprinted the final leg up to the group. By now they were already aware that he was coming and the trademark shouts of “shit! It’s the White Smile!” had been uttered.

He really, _really_ hated that name.

He got a partial glimpse of the human-- an older man in a dirty trench coat-- as he placed himself between the man and the few gang members that were still standing. Two salarians and a turian. Not the worst odds he’d faced. The three beefiest turians had already dropped-- the toxin taking effect and turning them into limp lumps before the fight had even really begun. He was out of darts so the rest would have to be by hand if they didn’t run, but so far he’d never met a salarian that he couldn’t scare off with a light punch.

Of course not all salarians were MIA ex-STG with a warning profile in the C-Sec database. As soon as Kolyat saw the salarian’s rather recognizable face, he realized his mistake.

 _Next time, save a freaking dart for an emergency_ \-- he silently noted as he stumbled backwards out of the way of a nasty looking omni-knife. He recalled the file as he shoved the human down the nearest alley and kicked over some storage crates to try and buy himself time. There wasn’t much information that STG had been willing to release other that the fact that torture at the hands of a former spectre had likely driven the now ex-stg officer mad. He was suspected of being linked to several different murders where the victim had been dissected or ‘carved’ while still very much alive.

 _He was also suspected of using a nasty poison on his knives_.

That thought came up just as there was a stinging bite into his shoulder. It wasn’t deep thanks to his shields slowing it and bonus to the situation was that drell could filter most toxins so it likely wouldn’t paralyze him. The bad news was he was going to bleed and possibly blow his cover if he left behind ‘evidence’ like blood that someone could find. Best option was to run-- an option he would have readily taken if the damn alley wasn’t a goddamn dead end.

A gunshot pierced the air at the same time that he was hit with a punch of contact to his shields that sent him stumbling forward. He bit back a hiss as he ducked behind a storage crate near the back of the alley with the human. When he’d first begun doing ‘vigilante’ work he’d decided early that he was never to speak. Though people had ruled out Turian, Elcor, Volus, Vorcha, and Hanar-- his race was a common question and he wanted to keep it that way. Too easy for someone to find a drell on this damn station.

He glanced at the human. Dirty grey hair, sharp cheeks, and a heavy dark trench coat that didn’t do a very good job of hiding the freshly bleeding gash that they were clasping on their waist. _Damn_ . _With his shoulder fucked up there was no way he could carry a human who_ **_couldn’t_ ** _filter toxins_. Things were looking a little grim and he very much considered breaking his no speaking rule.

“See that piping?” The human said in a low rumble, beating him to speaking.

Kolyat glanced up, his eyes easily finding the piping that ran in the shadows from the level up all the way to the very alley they were hiding in. He gave a short nod.

“Good. Climb it. I’ll keep them distracted.”

Kolyat didn’t even have a chance to protest. The human was already sprinting towards the alley entrance, sliding between the turian’s legs and elbowing the other salarian in the face as he tackled the knife producing ex-stg madman. It was as good an opening as Kolyat was going to get and though his body and brain protested, he climbed obediently.

 _I’m supposed to be rescuing_ _him_.

 _Damnit_.

He was halfway up, the going rather slow because of his shoulder, when he heard the shots. Wild and erratic like someone shooting in a panic but none of the shooting hit near him which meant… he chanced a glance back. Crumpling to the ground like a sack of sand was the human as the group sprinted away. It could be a trick, a way to get Kolyat to come out, but he-- as well as they-- knew that the gunshots would draw some sort of attention. If he left now then if C-Sec or one of the more dangerous gangs showed up… yet if he ran now the human would likely die. That is if they weren’t already dead.

He couldn’t be that coward.

Sliding back down the pipe, he crept over to the body. If they were dead he’d just go. One more failure to add to the list that was his life. If they lived however… well he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He could try to take them to Chloe’s clinic but he’d have to catch a cab for that and cabs tended to record their passengers which he couldn’t risk. Then again he could just have Chloe meet him at the apartment since it was nearby but THAT meant the human could learn his identity.

The internal argumentative war-- and guilt for almost hoping the human was dead-- continued up until the lip of the alley. As he reached the human he also came to a decision. Fuck secret identities. If it meant risking someone dying then he’d rather give up his safety if it meant they’d live. That’s why he was doing this after all. Haron, his C-Sec watchdog and now best friend, might have a few words to say on the subject but Kolyat had always been able to change his mind in the end.

First step was to make sure the human was alive. When they started to struggle to move before he’d even gotten to them-- writhing like an injured animal-- he knew what he had to do.

 

~~~

 

Bones cracked his eyes open, wincing against the light. Getting to wherever he was now was a bit of a blur that he could only just barely recall. What he did remember was acting as a distraction as the kids and the masked vigilante got to safety. There was also a hazy recollection of the costumed hero walking with him-- mostly carrying him-- as a feeling like a fever boiled under his skin and made his limbs heavy.  It wasn’t the first time that he’d met a hero like that but it was the first time he’d seen one in this dimension.

“Chloe! He’s awake.”

A rusty voice called from above him but he couldn’t see them past the haze that was the light. It seemed like every piece of light was accompanied by a rainbow halo that dug knives into his eyes. Must have been some sort of poison to cause the effect-- just his luck. He’d never been able to heal easily with poisons. Of course, if he was poisoned then the person in the suit might be as well. He hoped they were okay but he was more concerned about the kids.

Licking his lips, he closed his eyes against the firework prisms and asked, “where…”

That one word took effort. Like breathing was hard and there wasn’t enough air. Must have been bad... searching his memory he began to remember why his chest felt like his lungs had taken a vacation. He’d been shot. A lot. And stabbed. Mr Stabby had gone nuts, making a ground meat mess of Bones’ side when he’d tackled him. When he’d bit the salarian-- that’s what the kids said that type of alien was-- the others had spooked.  

“Don’t try to talk,” a feminine voice floated in with approaching footsteps, “I’m working as fast as I can but you were injured. Badly. Kolyat, can you go to my workroom and get a full dose of the--”

“Already on it!”

Bones huffed a breath, trying to get enough air to just tell her to focus on the poison. Exposing himself as a mutant was dangerous but that was going to happen anyhow if she took time to wonder how he was alive while looking akin to swiss cheese.

A gentle but firm hand was working on his side when he finally felt like he could force another word. He struggled, his limb shaking and struggling to follow the commands of his brain until he grabbed at her wrist. “Just... antidote.”

“Well yes,” her tone was soothing and conversational, “But first let's patch this hole in your artery fir--”

“No.” He was struggling. It took so, so much effort and a part of him just wanted to sleep but he was a little afraid that if he DID sleep that maybe THIS time he might not wake. He wasn’t quite ready to take that journey. Not now.

But how to explain to her that he could damn well heal it himself if she just helped him flush the poison from his system. Of course, the bigger question was how to explain without _actually_ explaining and revealing his secrets.

Better to just go.

He struggled, trying to get up. Maybe if he could get upright he could get enough air. Something. Anything. The woman gripped his arm, desperate to stop him as she said, “Listen, I’m a doctor. My name is Dr Chloe Michel and I’m going to do everything I can. Now if I let go of this artery-- you die. Okay? I know that the poison is having some unpleasant effects but you need to calm down and. Stay. Still.”

The last few words were punctuated by gentle pushes that knocked him back down as he began to panic. A good samaritan was fine but an actual doctor? He needed to leave. Doctors and scientists were among the top of the list of people he avoided and for good reason.

“Need me to hold him down?” the rusty voice asked, getting louder and puffing slightly as if they’d been running.

“No, I need YOU to sit down until the machine finishes synthesizing an antidote for you both. Last thing I need is you to fall over and brain yourself--”

“Fine. Fine. ...You sure? He’s really thrashing…”

“Kolyat I swear--”

“Okay! Sitting.”

Bones growled, choking on the blood that had gathered in his throat as he made a final push. Normal humans weren’t strong enough to hold him down usually and this lass was no different. She went reeling back with a cuss as he pushed the light from above him and forced himself into a mostly upright position. He could feel the damage as he moved. Wounds from the erratic knifing dotted his side and pain combined with the poison made his world a haze. He was sure that with concentration he could probably _feel_ where the blade nicked his heart and count where the strange bullets had blazed through his chest. None of that was of importance though.

What was of importance was getting away from the doctor. There were two-hundred and six things she was bound to notice missing if she continued to work on him and that was only the start of it all. Given that doctors and scientists were virtually the same breed, he knew she couldn’t be trusted. It was in their nature. They couldn’t help but want to know, experiment, discover… use.

Add on that the kids were waiting...

Something cold and numb blossomed over his arm just after she pressed something there. He tried to shrug it off but he could feel the numbness spreading.

No.

The last thing he wanted was to be knocked out and locked away again. Lose those he cared about while scientists prodded him regularly in an effort to find some ‘supercure’ using his abilities. As much as he wanted to help people it shouldn’t be at the expense of his life, freedom, and humanity.

His steps had him stumbling. He could see the doorway. Just one more step was his mantra even as he felt the floor on his knees.

 _Just one more_.


	3. Chapter 3

Kolyat blew an impressed whistle-- something he’d recently learned from Bailey-- and stared down at the bleeding lump on the floor.

“So… back on the table?” He asked.

Chloe, her clothing rumpled and covered in blood, glared at him as she spread her red smeared gloves in what may have been a human ‘what the fuck gesture’. He couldn’t blame her. 

Eventually she relented. “Yes. Fine. Where’d you FIND this guy?” 

“The usual.” Kolyat said, shrugging-- an action that he regretted as it sent a jolt of pain along his arm-- before he slipped his good arm under the unconscious man and hefted. Bastard was heavier than a drell and built like a tank. A very lean tank who smelled like garbage. “Wasn’t sure he’d live to get to the clinic.”

She puffed, ther mask shifting with the action as she helped Kolyat settle the man back onto the impromptu operating table. As she started trying to wipe up the wounds once again she began to rant, “Frankly I’m not sure how he’s alive right  _ now. _ Or how he was able to get up and actually walk across the room. He’s bled enough to have been dead an hour ago. He has a hole in his  _ heart _ . His ribcage is either shattered or not quite there. He was able to speak even though he’s got lung wounds. By the darkness of THIS blood I’m fairly sure he’d got a gut wound but no, he’s going to stand up and walk out the door like it’s a bloody papercut! ...Maybe he’s on drugs. It’s got to be drugs right? ...we should take him to a hospital. I… I’m not even sure I’ve got enough medigel to get him there. Of course if he was gonna die I guess he would have done it already...”

Kolyat hid his grimace as he busied himself with washing his hands. Haron was going to have a fit as it was and as things progressed… well tonight was going to have no good ending. If the guy died then C-Sec was going to be asking where the body came from, why they DIDN’T go to a hospital, yadda yadda. If he lived… well as unlikely as that looked, the whole ‘living’ thing came with its own set of problems. 

“...no...” 

Kolyat paused midway through drying his hands on one of Chloe’s prized decorative dish towels and looked at the man who  _ SHOULD _ have still been unconscious. Heck, with the first dose that Chloe had given him when they first got in he should have been unconscious well into the night. With the doubled up dose she’d had Kolyat fetch, most people would have been been out like a stone for the better part of a day. 

It was obvious that the man was fighting with everything he had to be conscious, thankfully though his movements were limited to his hand flexing and labored slightly panicked breathing. “... no… hospitals…”

Chloe rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead, leaving a big smear of blood there as she muttered to herself. Eventually she huffed and peeled off her gloves, tossing them into the little trashcan nearby after Kolyat stepped onto the pedal to open the lid. “Fine. You know what? Fine.  _ Fine. _ ”

The man caught her wrist as she started to try and tug off her mask as well. His voice had a nasty gurgle that reminded Kolyat a little to much of his father and Keprals. “Need… antidote.”

“No,” Chloe said, pulling from his grasp and bracing herself on the table as she looked down at the man, “what you  _ need _ is to stop bleeding-out all over my kitchen table. The poison in your system is just a mild paralytic. Honestly the poison is  _ not _ what you should be worrying about.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. A strangled ugly gurgle that ended in a rasp.

Kolyat raised a brow, looking at Chloe. “ so… definitely drugs?”

“What else could it be?”

“...I…” They both looked down at the man expectantly. His eyes had closed and his strained breathing returned to what it had been when he was unconscious.

With a fed up groan Chloe headed for the back room. “Watch him! Gonna see if the damn antidote is ready.”

She disappeared into her workroom muttering to herself worse than when Haron had forgotten one of their dinner dates-- leaving her sitting at the restaurant alone all evening-- and Kolyat was left with the ‘should be dead’ bloody miracle on the table. Emphasis on bloody. They looked more corpse that patient with their pale skin a little too pale to be healthy beneath the smears of blood. As he stood looking at the human, wondering a little at why his luck was so bad that this was how his night was going-- the front door chirped and slid open.

“Please tell me this is a joke.” Haron’s voice growled from behind him. 

Kolyat cleared his throat and turned around. His voice tended to get reedy and nasal when he was nervous or upset and right then was no different as he faced his roommate. “Uh, I was thinking we should order out tonight.”

“Like order a triage team?” Haron asked, setting down his work-bag as he walked over to glance at the body. “Spirits Kolyat… the hell did you do to him?”

“Hey, I didn’t do this! He ran into some wackjob Salarian with a knife.”

“I can see that. Ran into him,” Haron paused, using one of the rags to shift the man’s jacket as he counted, “ five… eight… seventeen times? I’m not even going to ask about the gunshot wounds. …youknow what Kolyat?”

“Hn?”

“Have I told you lately that I hate you?”

Kolyat snorted and headed for the fridge. “Sadly no, you’ve missed telling me for the last few days because Bailey keeps pulling you into briefings before anyone sane is awake.”

Haron groaned. “Don’t remind me and since I  _ haven’t _ said it-- I hate you. ...so, is this guy dead or are we just letting him bleed out?”

Chloe, bless her, decided to come back at that moment. As she wiped down the man’s arm and jabbed an injector against his skin she answered. “If he was going to bleed out I’m sure he would have finished earlier. Now that you're here though, can you help me get him into the back room? Kolyat can’t really carry him.”

“Sure I-- … wait, why can’t Kolyat carry him?”

Kolyat pulled out one levo beer and one dextro from the fridge, holding one out as a peace offering as he sheepishly said, “remember that warning about the ex-STG that was thought to be on the station?” 

“...please tell me you didn’t.” Haron crossed his arms, glaring solidly at Kolyat.

Setting the dextro beer on the counter, Kolyat tried to keep the whine out of his voice, “In my defence, I didn’t know it was him until he started waving knives around.”

Haron groaned, “What if he followed you? Do you realize how stupid--”

“Haron. Body. Backroom.  _ Now. _ ” Chloe interrupted.

Bustling the body into the backroom wasn’t overly difficult. Though Mr-Bleeds-A-Lot had woken earlier it seemed he was finally out cold even after Haron managed drop him when the trenchcoat-made-stretcher ripped and dumped the poor guy on the floor. 

While Haron and Chloe had a whispered conversation in the hall, Kolyat worked on cleaning up the kitchen. Truth be told-- this actually wasn’t the worst state it had been in since his starting vigilante work. In fact the fistfight he and Haron had in the beginning-- the one that had somehow cemented their friendship-- had been much more difficult to clean up. 

He was just giving the table a final spray of disinfectant when a freshly changed Haron came over.

“I’m picking up dinner, what do you want?”

“Uh,” Kolyat paused, “from where?”

Haron tugged his coat off the hanger near the door with just enough force to let Kolyat in on the fact that he was still kinda pissed in his own reserved way. “Have to get medigel from the clinic. Chloe says she’s running low here. Again.”

Ah. That explained the mood. Haron hated the clinic thanks to it being right next to where the turian’s own family had been killed. “I could go if you want” Kolyat offered.

Haron simply glared. 

“Or not. ...Uh. I’ll take a spicy soup bowl from that place with the orange sign.”

“Fine.”

“Thanks!” Kolyat called towards the already closing door.

By the time Haron got back he’d calmed back down to his typical turian emotional flatline, Chloe and Kolyat had both showered, and the patient was as stable as Chloe could get considering the circumstances. Sitting on the small apartment balcony with a fresh patch of medigel and some ice on his shoulder, Kolyat stretched out his legs and sighed, “Sorry.”

Haron, previously lost to absently attempting to peel the label off his beer just shrugged. “It was bound to happen eventually. Knew that when we started this… I’m just tired. Bailey’s been crawling up everyone’s ass about finding that escaped prisoner. We’ve had a briefing every day since Shepard came back through the relay.”

That news had Kolyat choking on his beer. After sitting up and coughing hard enough to make his eyes water he asked, “What? Since when?”

“You didn’t know? With your father on the mission I assumed--… they called Bailey three days ago. Docked at Omega making repairs or something when they called…”

Kolyat flopped back, too angry and scared to really notice that the action jostled his shoulder a little more than was comfortable. Had his father not called because ‘whoops it slipped my mind that I should let my son know I’m alive’ or … was it because he no longer had a father? 

If Haron knew what he was thinking, he didn’t let on. Instead he cleared his throat awkwardly a few times during the silence until it became too much for the both of them. Haron stood and collected the containers from their meal as he said, “I spoke with Chloe, I think she should keep some of those darts she made for you with her until we’re sure you weren’t followed. I’ll leave my spare pistol in your bedroom.”

“Hn.”

Haron paused, lingering at the doorway. “You could try sending him a message you know. ”

Yeah, he could message his father but he was afraid of what that might reveal. Kolyat swallowed down his reply and just grunted again as his mind danced in circles. 

“I, uh… you have tomorrow off right?” Haron pressed.

“Yeah.”

“Right. Uh, see you in the morning then.” 

Morning. What a joke that was on this station. Staring up at the visible stars and trying rather hard not to think of his father, he instead dwelled on how much he missed Kahje mornings. Closing his eyes, he remembered his last morning with his mother before she was killed. It had been warm and she’d worn her favorite lilac gown, the one that fluttered with the breeze as if it was alive. They had breakfast on one of the docks as the morning mist hung in the air and the clouds shifted through a rainbow of colors as the day warmed and brightened. 

He missed her. Even after all this time, he missed her. It hurt to admit. It hurt worse to admit that he missed his father now too. 

“Why’d you have to come back only to leave again?” he said with a sigh towards the stars. 

Eventually it was late enough and his sore muscles protested the balcony chair enough that he dragged his ass back inside. Knowing full well that he was in for a sleepless night thanks to the news-- or lack of-- about his father, he raided the fridge and cabinet for whatever alcohol he could find. There wasn’t much. He’d meant to order some basics and food that evening to pick it up after his patrol but best laid plans and all. 

Toting his bottle of bad decisions back down the hall on his way to his room, he paused at the open door of Chloe’s workshop. She looked like she was starting to nod off at her desk with a halfway finished analysis of something a little too beyond his knowledge of science still open on her terminal.

“Hey.”

She cracked open her eyes. “Hey.”

Kolyat tilted his head towards the stairs. “Haron headed up a few minutes ago.”

“I told him I was gonna work on a toxin analysis for C-Sec while I watch our guest,” She said, hiding a yawn behind her hand. “See if they somehow live and all that.”

Staring at the lump on the cot that was usually reserved for when he fucked up, Kolyat took a distracted swig from his drink.

“You okay Kolyat?” Chloe broke him out of his mental drift with a soft question that reeked with worry as her eyes followed the bottle.  

“Don’t really want to talk about it.” He relented eventually. “You’re already falling asleep, how about I stay here and watch them. I’ll come get you if anything goes wrong.”

Frowning, she glanced back towards the lump, gears turning in her head before she sighed. “Okay.” After shutting down her terminal, she paused beside him on her way out and put a hand on his uninjured shoulder. “You know where to find us if you need us.”

He nodded, leaning his head against the doorway.

After her footsteps faded up the stairs and the apartment began to get the eerie quiet that always came when you were the last one awake, Kolyat made his way to the chair they’d dragged in there from the living room back when he’d managed to get his ass handed to him on the regular. It was old, worn, and comfy as hell unless you were unfortunate enough to fall asleep in it-- which made it distinctly less comfortable when it made your back spasm. Didn’t help that something about the chair made it lull you into naps like a damn narcoleptic. He was hoping that tonight it wouldn’t work though as he nursed his drink and did what honestly he was best at-- brooding.

He woke up to a shuffling sound.  The man was sitting up-- maybe not a good sign with those wounds-- and making a fantastic grimace after touching their blood crusted hair and face.

Kolyat shifted, stretching out his leg and trying to stretch out the cramp in his side from falling asleep in that damn chair as he said, “Probably best if you don’t move too much. Think you’re part medigel with how much Chloe had to patch you.”

The man stopped and there was a moment where Kolyat was fairly sure an expression of terror had crossed the man’s face. It smoothed away as the man’s bright grey eyes were turned on him. “Ah. I apologize if I’ve been an inconvenience,” he offered out a hand, paused when he noticed how dirty it was and gave an apologetic looking grin, “though I can assure you that I’m well enough to be out of your...ah… well I’d say hair but would scales be more appropriate or...?”

Kolyat couldn’t help but simply stare at him. That was… perhaps not a terribly sane response to waking up covered in blood but it also was not expected. Neither was the fact that he could see the man’s chest and the gaping wounds, even hidden behind medigel, were now little more than fading bruises on firm whole flesh. 

“I, uhm, I’m afraid I’ve no currency for which to pay you--”

That snapped Kolyat out of his partially awake stupor and he raised his hand with a shake of his head. “Didn’t help you for money. ...don’t take this wrong but can I look at your chest? I mean it looks like your wounds are… better.”

The man’s eyebrow ticked up. A small movement that caught Kolyat’s eye. “Ah. Perhaps I--”

“Kolyat!” Both he and the man jumped as Chloe’s voice hissed from the doorway as she stalked in. “He’s supposed to be resting not being chatted at!”

The man stood-- actually  _ stood _ as if it was no issue-- looking flustered. “My apologies miss. I’m afraid it’s my fault, I was simply attempting to figure out what happened last night. I’m afraid my memory is a little, ah... hazy.”

She forced him back down to sitting as she chastised. “You shouldn't even be up yet! You’re going to be opening… opening…” Chloe paused as she leaned back and rubbed her knuckles across her forehead-- something she tended to so when she was upset or flustered. After a moment she took another step back, fidgeting and crossing her arms across her chest as she spoke, “Okay, uh, how to put this politely… exactly  _ how _ \-- medigel doesn’t work that fast and you had  _ holes.  _ In your lungs. I--...”

“Ah… that.” To his credit, the man looked like a pyjack that had just got caught pissing on the bed as he floundered. “I… uh. It--… I suppose there is no use hiding it as that would seem ungrateful of me,” he said reaching up as if to push his hair out of his face and then pausing and grimacing when his hand once again encountered the crusty clumps. “To be simple I’m a bit of a… freak. As long as there are no chemicals hindering the process I can regenerate most wounds. I apologize if I’ve caused you any concern.”

“Oh.”

Kolyat felt as if his brain was echoing the sentiment but honestly that explained so. fucking. much.

“As I was telling, uh, your associate here,” the man said with a gesture towards Kolyat, “I’m afraid I don’t have any currency at the moment to repay your assistance but when I find work I would gladly pay you back.”

“ _ You asked him for money? _ ” Chloe hissed in a whisper as Kolyat moved to stand beside her.

“Course not,” he hissed right back before gesturing at towards the bathroom and speaking to the man himself. “I guess if you’re better you’d want head out? You could shower first if you wanted. Less of a chance C-Sec would get called on you…”

“I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“No, it’s… more than fine. Uh, towels are on the left. Soap in the blue bottle is safe for human skin and hair. The hot water timer maxes out at forty minutes but if you need an override code--”

“Heavens no. Fifteen minutes would be more than enough. Forty would be… excessive.”

~~~

Haron woke to Chloe’s fingers dancing over his chest carapace and the soft skin of her lips pressing against his much rougher skinned cheek plating. The display she’d chosen that morning at the window was bright sunshine and a field of earth flowers. Too much color to seem like home but he didn’t mind. Rolling over so the light wasn’t in his face, he mumbled his own morning greetings before trying to go back to sleep since it was his day off and he fully intended to spend at least one extra hour in bed.

“Haaaaron.”

She was using  _ that _ tone. That horrible soft sing-song tone. It was both the most dangerous and most sexy thing about her. It usually  _ always _ meant she wanted something but spirits he usually didn’t care because he’d give her damn near anything she wanted no matter how she asked. Cracking open an eye, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Hm? ’m sleepin.”

Her nose brushed against his neck. A soft nuzzle as she laughed. “Guess what?”

It took effort not to simply groan his disapproval as her early morning chipperness and go back to sleep with his face pillowed on her too-soft to be anything but alien body. “Hm?” He finally managed to grunt.

“You’d never believe it, but remember that patient from last night?”

“Mm. The corpse.” He mumbled into her skin. Moons and ancestors she smelled good but… well he wasn’t sure he could actually enjoy himself or her for that matter now that she’s reminded him of the probably-dead-by-now human downstairs that he was going to have to deal with. Of course he’d preemptively scouted places to dump bodies where the keepers would dispose of them quickly but he’d never thought he’d actually have to use one of them. Spirits what a mess.

“Full recovery. They're completely fine.”

_ What? _

He squinted up at her as she rolled him onto his back and straddled his hips. That couldn’t be right. ….this must be a dream. Maybe in that case he could make it a  _ nice _ dream. Still only partially awake, he shifted his hands to grip her waist, stroking the lines of her hips as he ground gently upwards with his own. To his immense satisfaction it had the desired effect up until she pulled his hands away. 

“Mmm. Charmer. Maybe later. I’m going to help Kolyat with making breakfast. Why don’t you come down when you’re ready? I’ll make you some of that turian coffee we got on palaven, kay?”

Haron growled his own opinion under his breath with a huff. That wasn’t how a nice dream was supposed to go at all. Once her bodyheat left and she thumped down the stairs, he rolled over and promptly fell back asleep. 

He woke a while later-- unsure exactly how much longer he’d slept and unsure if it had been a dream or not as he dressed and dragged himself down the stairs to use the bathroom. As he reached the door it opened to a very strange pair of feet and someone wearing a towel over their head.

“Oh. Apologies. I was just on my way to ask miss… I actually don’t remember catching her name but it seems most of my clothes didn’t survive last night. I was hoping someone might have a--”

Haron yawned, already walking towards Kolyat’s room as he gestured for the other man to follow. Frankly he didn’t care if the drell had an issue with him digging through his drawers to find the rescuee some clothes. All he wanted was a cup of hakvar and to see if Chloe wanted to spend some time at one of the presidium parks. Obviously things hadn’t been as grim as it had looked last night so who the fuck cared? Plus, it was his day off.

He’d learned early that Kolyat’s drawer was organized by ‘favorites’ and not by any particular  _ reasonable _ manner so Haron simply reached to the bottom and pulled out the first few items that he knew kolyat didn’t favor. “Here.”

With that he headed for the bathroom. He could still smell the faint aroma of the human blood that had just been washed away and he grimaced as he washed his own face. The splash of cold water didn’t exactly wake him up but frankly few things could. Above all, Haron had never been a morning person and even a warm cup of hakvar couldn’t change that. He emerged-- fresh face and empty bladder-- just as the rescuee emerged from Kolyat’s room.

“Just wanted to say thank you again. I promise to return these--”

Of course, few things wake a guy up like adrenaline. 

Haron had his gun out-- suddenly very thankful that he’d decided to wear it due to last night’s events-- as he snarled, “C-Sec, FREEZE you bastard!”

“Haron?!” Chloe called from the kitchen when their morning chatter was startled to silence like presidium pigeons.

The man froze with his hands up and eyes darting. “I… I believe I’ve missed something.”

“Haron, what the hell?” Kolyat asked from the hall where he blocked an already furious looking Chloe from rampaging over. 

Haron growled, shoving the man against the wall, using his free hand to tug a spare set of handcuffs from his work bag that had been set near the bathroom as he spoke. “According to new C-Sec regulations, you have the right to remain silent but anything you say can and will--”

“HARON,” Chloe snarled as Kolyat dragged her back, “Goddamnit Kolyat-- Haron I swear to god-- Kolyat let GO of me. Haron it’s just the guy Kolyat saved last night!”

“I know very well who this bastard is,” Haron said, clicking the handcuffs into position, “He’s a piece of criminal scum and the reason Bailey has been calling early shift briefings.”

“You’re joking, right?” 

“Chloe,” Kolyat was holding a bleeding nose as he spoke-- likely from catching one of her elbows. “Calm down. See? He’s got his reasons. They’re kinda shit but--”

“I did NOT bust my ass to save this man-- who has been perfectly polite might I add-- just for you to drag him off to jail. What’s his crime?”

Haron gave the man a shake like one might do with a misbehaving varren even though the man had been surprisingly compliant. “He was wanted for arrest and questioning by Specter Shepard that’s enough for me.”

“So they want him for questioning? That’s it? You don’t even know the crime? Fine if you’re going to arrest people then arrest me too. I mean, that makes this aiding and abetting plus with my past of ‘stealing’ medical supplies--”

“Spirits Chloe! That’s different and you were never charged!”

“Least you could do is run his DNA prints first. Tell me what he’s at least suspected of!”

“It doesn’t WORK that way!”

“It doesn’t work AT ALL, that’s why your goddamn best friend dresses up like a creepy asshole and plays batman down in the lower wards!”

Things got quiet with that. Worse, with what she said aloud, his prisoner could incriminate them all if he wanted. Chloe seemed to realize that fact as well as her glare softened and Kolyat hovered like he was simply considering running. That or he was just trying to stay out of elbow range in case she decided to hit him again. Probably the latter. 

“Well… I… this is very awkward.” The man said, breaking the silence. “I apologize for making a mess of this morning for you all.”

Haron gave him another soft shake but his heart wasn’t in it, “Shut up.”

He could run the prints. Easy. Bailey had already given him special access to the systems since he’d been privately working on a few cold case files in an attempt to earn his detective rank-- something that could only happen if he had a number of solved cases on his record-- so he did have the access. Problem was, he already HATED this man. It was petty. It was bullshit. Yet here he was realizing that he hated this man simply because he hated having to get up early in the morning and all those meetings… 

Opening up his omnitool he silently pressed one of the man’s fingers into the glowing orange hologram of the registry program. The citadel had access to nearly every planet and all ‘living’ criminal records were accessible in a matter of minutes just waiting to be recalled with some DNA. Maybe if he could show Chloe what a piece of shit this man really was then they could salvage the day. He could easily drop the guy off at the station-- held for processing-- and deal with him tomorrow. Wouldn’t take more than an hour.

His omnitool buzzed an error. *NO RECORDS* the words glared up at him and he suppressed a distressed trill as he tried again, using the man’s other hand in case there had been some residual medigel that causing the error-- though he’d frankly never seen that happen.

Chloe crosse her arms. “Well?”

*NO RECORD* beeped up at him again and he growled, his frustration growing. Everyone had records. EVERYONE. Even duct-rats and illusive rich fucks had records if you could get ahold of their DNA. You scan em and it might take some time if they weren’t in a wanted list but you’d at least get a record-- usually of where they were born, lived, or went to school. Sometimes the orphans and street kids would be very very short lists but there was ALWAYS something. Heck, even if they didn’t know who you were-- if your DNA was linked to any possible crimes it would pop up with the search… 

But there was nothing. Effectively, before today this man never existed.

“There’s nothing,” Haron said after the fourth frustrated scan. 

“See? Maybe he’s just one of the Spectre’s ex’s--”

“No. There is  _ nothing _ ,” Haron stressed. “He doesn’t  _ exist _ .”

“People slip through the crack--”

“I scan DNA and for weapons day in and day out. Everyone, even the orphans, have some sort of record. Hell even if it’s just a receipt for eating food somewhere-- it gets logged at some point. He’s not  _ in _ the system. Even if he HAD been in the system and someone had wiped the info there would still be essentially a DNA thumbprint that would pop up like a little ‘hey I exist’ the way Kolyat’s does now. He doesn’t even have an omnitool chip!”

“Okay... so why are you arresting him?”

Haron growled and pricked the man’s hand with his claw for a blood sample. Maybe the man had something on his skin to confuse the scanners. 

*NO RECORD*

Knowing that there were truly no records just made it all the worse. If it was Specter or Council business then he’d at least get a message letting him know he didn’t have clearance but… nothing was nothing and truthfully he couldn’t turn the man in without risking all of them being exposed. He clicked the lock open on the cuffs and gave the man a light shove before turning and stalking towards his office. 

 

~~~

“No. It’s fine. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me but I really should be going. Not to seem impolite but if he should change his mind… I do not wish to be present.”

Kolyat scowled, listening in as the man spoke to Chloe. They hadn’t even gotten a name, not that that really mattered. This whole thing stank though. Miraculous healing, a wanted criminal with no record or crime… to use a phrase Chloe had once said, it seemed hinky. 

Well, as Bailey often stressed, the best way to find out if someone was dirty was to follow them to their trash. Grabbing one of the padded vests from his room, stripping his freshly bloodied shirt, and snagging one of the toasted squares Chloe had made as part of breakfast, he headed for the balcony. He’d rappelled down and gotten into a nice dark corner by the time the man made it out the front door.  Often Kolyat found himself thankful that the lower wards had less lighting than the presidium and today was no different as he lurked behind his new target.

The man stood, looking up at the other arms of the citadel and the stars for a few minutes before setting off. Without an active mapping program on an omnitool it was easy to get lost-- something Kolyat still struggled with sometimes-- so it was impressive that the man seemed to be able to pick his way back towards where the fight had occurred with relative ease. There was a moment of gut clenching suspicion when the man trotted towards the very alley that he’d been attacked in but he simply passed it by. Every few steps were checked with a glance up as if he was using the stars to guide him-- except that made very little sense as the citadel worked on an alternating orbit that was rarely the same. 

The man had a good pace but Kolyat still often found himself crouched behind planters or leaning in a doorway and munching his breakfast as he waited for the man to pull ahead. It was during one of these waiting breaks that the man simply disappeared. One second he was staring up at the stars, Kolyat had blinked and glanced away, and when he looked back once more... he was gone. Kolyat replayed the memory, searching for clues but found nothing. 

_ Had the man entered one of the understreet tunnels? _ Kolyat couldn’t really follow there without making himself obvious. He’d been in the tunnels before. Used them to get near his target actually. Like any duct-rat left to be forgotten on the citadel he knew that chasing someone down there was just asking for trouble. 

It explained the smell though if that’s where the man had been living.

With a grouchy sigh of defeat, Kolyat began his treck back to the apartment. On the way he gathered his trash collecting gear so that he had a legitimate excuse for being out if anyone asked. Lost in thought and planning how he might watch for the man in the future, Kolyat didn’t notice who stood near the complex’s door until they spoke.

“Kolyat?”

Kolyat jerked feeling a little like being slapped when you weren’t expecting it. The surprise quickly mixed with anger that he was sure showed on his face. “Father.”

Thane gave a small nod. “I had hoped to see you.”

Passing his hand over the panel to let himself in the main door, Kolyat lead the way into the building. He tried to keep his temper in check as they both stood awkwardly side by side in the elevator but eventually the words spilled out like trying to pick up water with spread hands. 

“You look well. For someone who survived a suicide mission. ...I thought you were dead.”

“I’d intended to call--”

“Let me guess, you forgot? Or perhaps you’re still a coward--”

“Kolyat.”

Kolyat gestured with the bag of trash, heading out of the elevator and into the hall as his anger and hurt flared once more to the top just like it had months prior when his father had suddenly dropped back into his life. It darkened his gills and felt like thumbs behind his eyes. When he reached the apartment’s door he spun to face his father as the words boiled to the top.  “You couldn’t even send a message? Hey I’m not dead, sorry for making you worry? I didn’t-- you-- I didn’t even know you had gotten back through the relay until  _ Haron _ let it slip that your precious Commander Shepard had called Bailey three days ago!”

Damn his father. Damn his father and the calmness that he carried like a shield as he stepped forward and placed a hand on Kolyat’s injured shoulder. It took all of his power not to wince as his father gave a soft-- too familiar and affectionate-- squeeze as he spoke, “I was injured during the mission. I promised you before that I would remain honest… but I did not want you to worry--” Kolyat realized that it was not his father’s dominate hand that clasped his shoulder. In fact that arm was hidden beneath the large jacket that he was wearing. Thane continued, his face still solemn, “but I see now that what I seeked to avoid was inevitable.”

“Forget about it,” Kolyat mumbled as he pulled his aching shoulder from his father’s grasp and gestured at the door. “...want to come in?”

Thane shook his head and for a moment his eyes lingered too long on Kolyat’s face-- probably noticing any blood he’d missed. “I’m afraid I cannot. I wished to let you know I was well but I’ve a meeting I must attend. ...perhaps you would allow me to take you to dinner once the meeting finishes?”

A very ugly part of him wanted to still be angry and mean since his father didn’t even try to ask about his damn bloody nose but after the combination of events and his father’s effort to see him, he simply felt deflated and tired. “Yeah. Just--” he fluttered a hand, trying to find the words-- “message me with the location.”

With a slight bow, Thane turned and headed away. Watching him go, Kolyat warred with himself. A part of him wanted to try harder, be nicer, make more of an effort to repair the rift… the other part of him was still that scared little kid hiding in the cupboard waiting for his mother to come back when she never would and later watching his father fall apart in grief. There had always been a distance between them and as much as he wanted to close the gap… He ended up staying quiet. The words of how he was glad his father was okay were left unspoken as he ducked into the apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

 

~~ Six weeks later ~~

Not for the first time, Kolyat felt a small amount of guilt for wishing that his father _hadn’t_ been okay. The thought seemed to crop up more often than he wished now that his father had moved into a nearby apartment. Near enough that Kolyat was finding it difficult to hide his activities and the excuses were getting more and more thin for why he had to avoid a lunch, dinner, walk in the presidium, or morning stretches.

Every fight as the White Smile meant he had to be more careful with hiding his injuries and it seemed like Bailey was sending him on simpler and simpler jobs out of fear or respect for Thane’s reputation. It didn’t help that Kolyat had only caught the occasional glimpse of the man he’d rescued and every time he tried to follow it was only a matter of minutes before he was given the slip. It didn’t make sense that someone was that difficult to follow unless they were… well… someone like his father. They’d even somehow returned the borrowed clothing without anyone seeing.

Brooding over his mounting problems with an icepack to his freshly bruised eye, Kolyat was only half paying attention to the movie Chloe and Haron were watching when the door chimed.

“I’ll get it,” Haron said, already up and heading for the door.

“If it’s my dad--”

Haron flicked a dismissive hand before Kolyat could finish. “I know. I’ll handle it. _”_ Kolyat sunk low on the couch, hoping he couldn’t be seen from the doorway as the door opened and Haron made a threatening growl. “ _You._ ”

Though there were many ways for dealing with Thane, Kolyat was pretty sure that wasn’t one of them. In fact, the tone had Kolyat sitting up and peeking towards the door in alarm. Standing in the doorway was the rescuee. There were freshly yellowing bruises peeking from a torn shirt like he’d been subject to a horrific beating-- though with his freakish healing that could have been a day or an hour ago-- and he was clutching a keening turian child.

“Please,” the man’s tone was desperate, “I don’t know anyone else--”

“I should _arrest_ you--”

“Leave him alone!” a dirty little human girl pushed from behind and raised her fists at Haron as she placed herself protectively in front of the man. “He didn’t do anything!”

“Calamity,” the man tugged young pre-teen back to behind him once more, “Let me handle this. I--”

“But he’s gonna arrest you and you haven’t done shit!”

“ _Please._ ”

She fell silent. Her face sullen as she allowed herself to be pushed once more behind him.

“I’m sorry,” the man said taking a hesitant step towards Haron, “but I need your help. Arrest me if you must but I beg of you-- help me first.”

~~~

Bones stared at the turian in front of him. The children had been teaching him the races and he’d learned that these were not mutants as originally assumed but aliens from different planets. He’d been unable to steal anything to expand upon their knowledge though and there seemed to be no such thing as libraries. Honestly the only thing he knew for sure was that Niia was a turian and that she could only eat turian food.

Niia, the youngest of the group of children that he now stayed with, was keening softly in his arms as he stared at the cop. There weren’t many options or people to turn to and it was a risk to come here but truthfully these were the only people he knew.

“ _Please_ ,” Bones said again when no one reacted, “I beg of you.”

The young human doctor-- _he could swore she’d introduced herself but blast his spotty memory_ \-- made her way around the couch with a worried expression and eyes only for the crying Niia. “Is she ill?”

“No you dummy, she--”

Bones pulled Calamity further behind him, cutting her off. “No. Niia is well aside from some scrapes. I-- Calamity stop tugging-- It’s her brother-- Calamity!”

“Tell them about the salarian!”

“I am _trying_.”

“Salarian?” The cop asked, casting a glance towards the blue skinned man that the children had not known the race of-- _had his name been Cole? No… that wasn’t right..._.

“It was the same one that stabbed him--” Calamity said pushing forward and pointing at the blue man-- “and Bones.”

“Maybe, uh, this is a conversation we should be having with the door closed,” the cop said, finally standing aside. “Bones.”

If this world had had clocks, Bones was fairly sure that they would have been able to hear it ticking with the awkward silence that stretched. He wanted their help. Needed it actually. Yet… now that he was there he found himself hesitating.

Calamity on the other hand, ever the wild spirit, charged in and headed for the couch when he took too long for her liking. As she flopped onto it-- leaving some already visible smudges with her dirty feet-- Bones inwardly winced. Though these children had been the ones to find him when he’d been injured escaping the ship, he didn’t want to overstep whatever bounds there were by pretending to be their parent. Even holding Niia in his arms had been more by necessity than choice.

Before leaping through a portal to escape the bombs, he’d been more concerned with keeping his head down and staying on the move-- being a parent had never been in the cards, yet now he wasn’t sure what he’d do without them and a part of him wished that maybe…

“So,” the cop said, watching as Calamity flipped him off and proceeded to wriggle further into the couch like a muddy dog rolling on the bed, “You said you needed help and it involved the salarian who attacked you last time? How about you start at the beginning.”

How did all cops have the same damn tone even in different dimensions and species…?

Bones rubbed Niia’s back in small and hopefully soothing circles the same way he’d seen her brother do as he tried to recount the events, “Niia’s brother was taken. We were… shopping--”

“Uh-huh.”

“In the market.” Bones looked away as the cop’s mandibles tightened in what he’d begun to recognize as a turian glare. “I heard Cael yell for Niia to run--”

“Fat lot of good that did.” Calamity muttered from the couch.

“When I got there they both were gone.”

The blue male came forward, leaning his hip against the nearby table as he said, “but you apparently got her back.”

“I…” Bones glanced around before shifting Niia in his grasp. Her little three fingered hand--  still scraped from her trying to fight back-- was easy to untuck from his chest now that she was calmer. He gestured to the thin bracelet. “We use this. Cael was worried someone might take her.”

Calamity stood up on the couch as she interjected, “No. Cael thought slavers were poking around. Kids have been disappearing and it’s not like you ass--”

Bones frowned with only a small glance in her direction. They couldn’t afford to anger the one source of help available to them and he’d begged her to curb the harsh language while they were there. For a moment it looked like she might continue until she instead sat down with a huff facing away with her arms crossed. Calamity had always been the rougher one of the group-- at least verbally-- but from what he’d gathered she’d also been an orphan longer than the others thanks to being this galaxy’s version of a human mutant, though technically they all were. A distant part of him wondered that if things went on long enough perhaps she might be less of an abrasive terror and more of the kind child who’d convinced the others to try and help a stranger who appeared to be dying in an alley.

~~~

Kolyat shared a glance with Haron. C-Sec had seen a rise in children presumably getting killed in the ducts but some of the injuries… perhaps Bailey had already suspected this. That might even be why he had so many undercover watchers in the wards.

The man-- Bones, if the name the aptly called Calamity had used was correct-- adjusted the child in his arms as he continued. “Calamity and I followed Niias signal but--”

“Shhh.” Niia, the little turian girl, hissed a hush as she forced a three fingered hand over Bones’ mouth.

Bones rather obediently fell silent and simply stared with pleading eyes at the group until Calamity bounced up from the couch. “Hey, lady, you got any food here?” She didn’t give Chloe time to reply as she tugged Niia from Bones’ arms. “You’re the doctor right? Well you can patch Ni-ni’s hand while I eat somethin. You fancy types always got food you don’t need.”

Kolyat had half a mind to chastise and as did Haron by the look on his face. However Kolyat held his tongue when he saw Calamity whisper something to Bones who stood with a nod. “We should talk… somewhere else.”

Ah. Clever kid. She was trying to get him away from Niia so he could say whatever it was she’d shushed. Haron caught on just as quickly as he jerked a head towards the small office he kept for working towards his detective rank. Once all of them had filed into the room and the door was closed Haron asked, “What exactly did she not want you to say?”

“Niia’s brother is…” Bones puffed a sigh, pushing back his strange silver and red hair from his face before he continued, “to put it lightly he’s very against cops and telling secrets. The children consider my healing a secret and… you’re a cop.”

Haron hummed through his nose, “Hn. ...so whatever happened, likely the cause of those bruises, involved you healing something a little stronger than a simple beating.”

Bones gave a short nod, glancing down at the wrecked shirt. By the increasing fidgets there was something more to it and eventually Bones said, “They shot him. Cael. Probably because he was fighting too hard and I’d already gotten Niia away. I--” he turned away, head bowed. The hand that had been pushing away the hair repeatedly now clentched and his voice seemed strangled as he forced himself to continue. “I made him a target.  I heard Niia scream when I was running and I-I panicked when I saw the blood. I didn’t--… they would have left him alone.”

“So the child’s dead then.” Haron asked, his voice nothing but detached professionalism.

Bones shook his head. “It-- no. I can take injuries. I can heal someone if… if I concentrate.”

Well… that was new information.

“Show me,” Haron said with a gesture at Kolyat’s swollen eye. “Because right now I’m listening to the ravings of a druggie lunatic with two malnourished duct-rats that should be taken into protective custody.”

 _Harsh._ Kolyat made a small mimic of Chloe’s typical ‘what the fuck’ gesture. They’d all been privy to witnessing the man’s miraculous recovery. Haron simply spread his hands and leaned back. Whatever he was up to… well Kolyat was going to have to trust him.

Bones looked as if he was having a staring match with a rabid varren as he stared at Kolyat. Eventually, Haron broke the silence. “Well, if staring is how you heal people I regret to inform you that his eye remains as pretty as ever. I’m sorry Mr. Bones but I’m going to place you under arres--”

That seemed to spurn Bones into motion and he crossed the room in one quick stride. “Sorry,” came the mumble right before his lips clashed with Kolyat’s. He pulled away just as quickly and faced the wall, leaning into it like he might be ill. Kolyat was too startled to even realize that his eye was no longer swollen shut.

“Spirits,” Haron said, his voice hushed as he grabbed Kolyat’s chin and tilted his face towards the light. “So… does it usually require such intimate contact?”

Bones shook his head, still facing the wall as he croaked. “No. I have to form a… connection with the body though. Blood works. Spit.”

“Kolyat was covered in your blood but his shoulder didn’t heal.”

“It’s… I have to concentrate. Please,” Bones finally turned to face them, his face pale and pleading, “please, I made Cael a target. I healed him and they _saw_ . They thought it was _him_ who did it so they shot me and took him. Please… help me get him back. Help me… and you can do whatever you want with me after but _help me save him_.”


	5. Chapter 5

Bones crouched in the alley, knee against the cold metal as he gestured to the building where he’d originally chased the kidnappers. It was quiet. Dark. 

Empty.

“This the place?” Officer Haron asked, crouching at a dark patch on the ground that Bones was fairly sure was either his or Cael’s blood. 

Kolyat and Haron both started up the orange glowing handtools that everyone seemed to have and began waving their hands over the ground as if they were bloodhounds searching for a scent. Each split off in a different direction, wandering the empty building as Bones was left to simply wait. Every second that passed was one more second that his mind had to tear itself apart for being careless, or being too slow, or being too useless to be able to track someone down.

“Here! I’ve got something.” 

Bones jerked at the voice, sprinting over to where Kolyat was gesturing. He recognized the little nook and his heart fell. That was where Niia and Calamity had pulled him when he’d lost consciousness. He’d been dazed from healing Cael-- the process took a lot out of him for even small things-- and been unable to fight them off when they grabbed the boy. They’d shot him. Bullets like a beating and he’d been left to lay there as their feet stomped away and Cael’s yell echoed off the wall. The girls had dragged him into the corner...

Kolyat squatted and picked up something that didn’t wasn’t there originally. “Here. Haron, can you crack it?”

“Hm.” Haron took what looked like a tablet with a tight mandibled frown, “Looks like a DNA lock. Not sure even Spectre issue gear could get through it. Probably just someone’s lost experiment.”

Shaking his head, Kolyat took the tablet back as he looked it over. “It was on top of the blood like it was set there. No scratches so it wasn’t dropped. It had to have been placed there sometime recently, see? It was before the blood had fully dried but not when it was fresh.”

Bones felt a cold stone fist in his gut. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Dreading what might happen, he held out his hand not knowing what he could accomplish with the foreign technology but feeling helpless and desperate to try. Kolyat handed it over and the moment his fingers touched the pad it glowed to life, making him nearly drop it with his surprise.

Glowing from the screen was the salarian, in the background on one of the tables he could just make out the orange of the shirt Cael had been wearing that day. Already he could feel himself shaking as the Salarian spoke.

“I tried. Didn’t work. Didn’t work. Wound on subject closed. Healed like new. Not possible. Had to test. Had to test but it _didn’t_ _work_ \--” 

Bones thought he was going to be sick. The tablet hit the ground, falling silent as soon as he let go but the image of that salarian with Cael laying behind him still danced behind his eyes. He’d made the boy a target and goddess only knows what he’d been put through--

“Hey,” Kolyat’s firm hand gripped his shoulder, fingers digging in almost painfully as he spoke, “Hey. Calm down. Breathe or something.”

If Bones could cry, he probably would be a damn blubbering mess as he stared into the other man’s void-like eyes and tried very, very hard to get a grip. Reality squirmed like an oil slicked ferret but he managed to wrestle it down. When he’d calmed back to only a mild panic, Haron held out the tablet. “We need to know. It was likely placed here for a reason. ...Look away if you need, that goes for you too Kolyat.”

One hand gripping Kolyat who stood stoically, Bones stretched out a hand and touched it to the tablet again. It sprung to life almost immediately back where it had stopped and he hoped that he wasn’t about to see Cael murdered again-- this time too far for him to save. 

“-- _ work _ . Course it didn’t work. Wrong subject. Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong-- shut up, you’re whispering too loud. Can’t work with that noise. Too much noise. Need to make it stop. Cut it out. Can’t cut it out. Have to find the key. Unlock it. You can open it. Have to open it. Have to make it stop.” The salarian stopped and stared off into space, face blank. When he began again he seemed somehow sharper. Focused. More coherent. The salarian’s eyes narrowed, staring directly at whatever he’d used to record as he said, “I’m leaving this for the key. You want the boy? Come get him.”

It flicked off. Bones let his hand drop back to his side as that almost familiar numbness set in. There was something very wrong about that salarian but that simply seemed like stating the obvious.

“Hn,” Kolyat hummed looking over his orange handtool, “it’s giving off a location.”

Haron’s mandibles were tight, his brows drawn as he scowled and said, “that’s in the section that still needs repairs near the old shipyard. ...you know it’s a trap right? I should call this in.”

Kolyat let go of his shoulder, pulling Haron away as he spoke in a hushed voice. “You know as well as I do that if that kid isn’t already dead then the moment we even start to move in on that place--”

“He’s STG, Kol. We can’t take this guy on our own.”

“But what about Bones? Bailey sees him and likely he’ll have the same reaction you did. Worse, he ends up in prison and Bailey calls the kid a loss.”

“Spirits Kolyat, you can’t actually think he’d do that…”

Kolyat threw up his hands, his growl echoing off the walls. “No, but…”

“What if we called your dad?”

“Are you insane? Aside from the fact that he’s still recovering from the mission, his lungs… no, okay? That’s not an option.” 

Bones rubbed a hand against his pants, toying at the frayed edges of a hole that had been in the hip when he’d found them. His eyes strayed upwards as his mind raced. For so long he’d run. When he was a kid he’s run from the science labs his parents had dropped him at. He’d run from bullies, hunters, and risks. Hell, even when he’d decided to stop running he’d been pushed to run again. Perhaps… perhaps it was time to simply run the other direction. Run towards the fight. 

“Make a trade.” They jerked when he spoke, their conversation falling quiet. Bones’ voice felt like little more than a croak as he spoke again, “Make an exchange. Me for the boy.”

“Hm.” Haron scratched under his chin, “Would that even work?”

“I can’t believe you’re even considering it,” Kolyat snapped, pacing. “What’s to stop that crazy bastard from just killing us all?”

“Do you see any other options?”

 

~~~

 

Thane sat at the table in his apartment slowly kneading the exercise ball given to help regain strength in his hand. His injuries were recovering nicely but lately his mind wandered and worried more than ever. Though he’d moved into an apartment close to his son, it was apparent that every effort he made was somehow just pushing Kolyat farther away. 

Surprise and a flicker of hope sparked when the door chimed. Careful to set the exercise ball into a less visible area, Thane stood and headed for the view-checker he’d installed into the door. To his disappointment it was not Kolyat standing there. Instead it was the human, Dr. Michel, looking frazzled and worried as she tucked and untucked her hair behind her ear.

Thane opened the door as he shoved aside the faint tickle of worry that something had happened to Kolyat. “Dr. Michel,” He said with a small nod in greeting.

“Thane, thank god. I was worried you weren’t home,” she gestured with a little wave at someone nearby and for a very brief moment he feared that perhaps her motives had been sinister. Instead two ragged children-- one very young turian and the other a near teenage human-- slunk to her side as she spoke, “I’m really sorry but I need a favor. I’m-- I’m really no good with kids and something’s come up. I need to go run to the clinic for an emergency. Can you watch them until Haron gets back?”

Thane stared down at the two pairs of young eyes watching him like wary varren. “I… was not aware you had children,” he said calmly.

Perhaps it was a little crass to say but if Dr. Michel thought so, she didn’t show it. “No. God no. Haron and I-- No. They’re a-- well they’re with-- uhm, they’re a friend’s--” his brow ticked at the obvious lie-- “but Haron and Kolyat left on-- nevermind-- can you just watch them? I normally wouldn’t ask but there was a break in and--”

Thane raised a hand, “Go. I will watch them.”

_ Arashu, goddess of motherhood and protection-- guide me. _

She rubbed her knuckles across her forehead, grimacing. “I’d ask if you were sure but--”

“He said yes, stupid. Just go! Jeez.” The small human said as she shoved Dr. Michel who gave a hasty wave as she nearly sprinted down the hall.

_ Arashu, give me patience _ . 

“I suppose it would be best if we started with introductions,” Thane said after he’d gotten the children ushered in and the door closed and locked.

The little human regarded him with a sneer that reminded him rather forcibly of Jack and made him mentally re-double his prayers. She flicked a dismissive hand as she looked around the room and said, “I’m Calamity, that’s Niia. ...why is your place so empty?”

_ At least she was aptly named _ , Thane mused to himself. “I do not require many possessions.”

Calamity snorted, fingering the leaves of the plant that had been given to him as a housewarming gift. “Only psychos and rich people say shit like that,” she paused, eyeing him up and down slowly, “And you don’t look rich.”

_ Kalahira, I’m not sure what I did to deserve this… _

“And how long was Dr. Michel supposed to watch you?” Thane asked as he headed for the kitchen to start some tea. “Is someone picking you up soon?”

Silence. 

He turned, weary that they’d run off. Instead Calamity seemed to be ignoring him as she continued to toy with the plant and Niia remained by the door-- staring at it like a pet waiting for the return of it’s master. Perhaps another approach was in order.

“I do not have any food appropriate for children--”

“Cause you’re a psycho,” Calamity singsonged quietly under her breath.

“But we can order some food from the places of your choice.”

That seemed to get her attention. Now she was giving him a secondary appraisal-- like someone very much trying to judge if they should eat candy found on the ground. By the state of their clothes, he was guessing that such a consideration had been made in the past. 

“She wants imitation bao buns. The kind turians can eat,” Calamity eventually said, hooking a thumb over her shoulder at Niia. “I want one of those earth cookies. The oat ones in the sealed packages that last forever.”

Her stare was defiant, like she expected him to balk at the strangeness of her demands. Instead, he blinked slowly and opened his omnitool to make a request from the one person on the station that he trusted to help him complete the task. Once finished, the silence lingered surprisingly long before Calamity broke it. “So you’re Kolyat’s dad?”

Truly, he was surprised she didn’t break more than just the silence.

“I am.”

“He doesn’t seem to like you much.”

_ Ah, so she prefered to destroy the non-physical _ , he thought to himself. That explained much. Thane resisted the urge to clear his throat, careful to keep his breathing even-- wouldn’t do to have an attack and scare them. Still, the words hit a little too close to home and he looked away. “I have not been the best father.”

She hummed, finally moving away from the plant and over to the stool near the counter where he stood. “It’s okay. At least you admit it. Usually people get all puckered about being a shit parent.” 

His eyebrow ticked up and he watched Niia as she finally moved away from the door and began to wander. Perhaps saying yes to watching them had been a mistake… still, so far they’d been fairly quiet if terminally rude. He had to admit a deep curiosity to why Chloe had really been watching them. By the attitude and dirty clothing he’d have guessed duct-rat but in that case they should have simply been sent away with the services. 

Silence lapped and Calamity wandered off, apparently bored with him as she returned to toying with the plant up until the food arrived. When the door chimed, Thane answered it with more relief than intended. Zaeed stood at the door with suspicious narrowed eyes. “Krios.”

Thane nodded and stepped aside. “Apologies for--”

Zaeed held up a hand cutting him off, then slowly pointed towards where Calamity was peeking past the table she’d hid behind. 

“Ah,” Thane swept a hand towards her, “this is Calamity. The other is…” he paused glancing around.

“I’ll go get Ni-ni,” Calamity said bouncing up and away as if she couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.

“Well,” Zaeed handed over a little bag with an intent expression and semi-amused grunt, “That explains the message. I half thought this was some sort of drell booty-call. ...So what’s with the kids?”

“I believe Chloe was supposed--”

“NI-NIIIIII?” Calamity came around the corner yelling at what was likely the top of her lungs and Thane could ‘hear’ as his hearing distorted to protect his eardrums. “Hey dad-guy do you have any, like, cupboards? Or hidey holes?”

He could think of  _ several _ but all should be appropriately locked or too difficult to reach even for a duct-rat. Still he gave a slight nod. Calamity scowled at him, “Okay? So where? Ni-ni likes to sleep in the small places.”

After shooting a partially pleading look towards Zaeed, the apartment dissolved into a whirlwind of cupboard opening and drawer slamming. It was the little gasp that alerted him to something being truly wrong-- more-so because it came from the little office where he’d stored both his and Shepard’s guns. The office he hadn’t bothered locking since he hadn’t expected visitors below the legal drinking age. Or visitors at all, really.

Calamity stood, staring at the shelves lining the wall when he entered. She whirled around, looking frantic as she said, “Okay, uhm, don’t be mad--”

“Thane,” Zaeed gestured towards the shelf that she was attempting to hide behind her. 

It was empty.

Worse, the venting just under it had been pried open. An adult couldn’t fit through there but the little turian…

Calamity darted for the door, looking terrified. Though Thane was no asari, he easily caught the child in a biotic stasis. 

“Calamity,” he said as calmly as he could muster after releasing her, “you are not in trouble but I must ask why Niia felt the need to steal a gun? Was this your plan all along?”

Calamity fidgeted, twisting the edges of her dirty shirt in her hands before she violently shook her head. When Zaeed stepped into the room and closed the door, her eyes widened and she backed away. By her expression, she truly thought they were going to kill her. 

Zaeed gave Thane a wink and headed for the chair. Sitting down, he offered out the MRE Thane had requested. No one moved. Simply staring, gauging, weighing options-- until she broke. 

“I have to go after her y-you can’t stop me.”

“You,” Zaeed said with a stern frown, “aren’t going anywhere till you explain.”

She shook her head.

Zaeed leaned back with a shrug, “That’s too bad. I guess we all stay here then.”

Thane clasped his hands behind his back as he wandered to the window and asked, “Calamity, there are many people in this world. A great many of them are bad--”

“No shit,” She muttered, earning a smothered grin from Zaeed.

“--but Zaeed and I are not here to hurt you. If you remember correctly, I did not expect visitors.”

Her resolve was wavering as her eyes darted to the MRE on the floor, the guns on the shelf, and then between Zaeen and him. Still, her lips pursed and she shook her head again.

Five minutes ticked by. Six. Eight. Nearing ten she was starting to look frantic when she finally said, “It’s my fault.”

Thane and Zaeed listened expectantly and she continued after what appeared to be an inner war, “She went after her brother.”

“So this is a family quarrel?” Zaeed asked.

She shook her head again, “No. He got taken. Bones went with the cop and his--” she gestured at Thane-- “son. To get him back. Bones made me promise to stay away from the salarian though…”

“The salarian?” Thane felt a very dark worry beginning to creep up now that he was realizing his son was involved in… whatever this was.

“We have to go,” she said as she twisted the shirt hard enough that Thane could hear the fabric ripping. “We have to go. She’s gonna get hurt and it’s my fault.”

 

~~~

 

Bones shifted his wrists against the rope. Clutched in his bound hands was a dart from Kolyat. He wasn’t entirely sure what it did but Kolyat assured him that if he could get close enough to prick the salarian then the dart would incapacitate him. It was no problem to slip from the rope  and use the dart-- he’d assured Kolyat and Haron of that though never told them the why or how. It seems they knew enough secrets for now and there was no reason to let them in on this one. Plausible deniability and all that.

In the end they’d all agreed that trying to ‘make a trade’ was the best. Haron was to lead him in, make some empty threats about killing him, make the trade, and leave. Simple. It would probably go horribly wrong but there wasn’t really much in the way of choices. Honestly, Bones just wanted Cael to be okay. The kids had been getting on fine before he’d fallen into their little group and he was hoping that they’d get on fine afterwards. 

They had to.

He walked forward obediently even as Haron jabbed the gun against his back, urging him forward. The building loomed and the air was thin-- stars just past the jagged edge where the next building ended. 

_ How strange to be standing on the edge of the sky _ , he thought before they stepped into the open.

The salarian stood there, large eyes unblinking as he stared. Just behind him was a batarian dragging a struggling Cael from a table. There were a few other bodies laid out but they all looked well beyond help.

“I want to make a trade. Him--” Haron gesture from Bones to Cael, “for the boy.”

“Trade? Ahaha,” the salarian cackled, his pupils widening till his eyes looked like little more than voids. “No. No I think not. Need the key. Need the youth. Both. Have to have them. Find the answers--”

“Bones!” Cael yelled, struggling. “RUN! HE’S-- It’s a TRAP!”

What restraint Bones had snapped when the batarian struck the boy. 

“CAEL!” 

Whatever plan there had been crumbled as the salarian came forward. The orange glow struck so fast he didn’t realize what had happened even as he stood there. Time slowed in a strange way-- eeking out around him as he looked down. The salarian, looking triumphant, stared back. His hand, along with the orange glow was buried in Bone’s chest and Bones was finding it very difficult to breathe.

“Have to get the key from inside the door. Unlock it,” the salarian babbled. 

Bones was pushed back, faster than his mind and feet could follow, all the way to one of the building’s crumbling walls. The salarian was saying more but Bones focused over his shoulder as time seemed to crawl around him. Haron was holding a growing blue stain on his leg-- turian blood-- and trying to duck behind cover as the batarian fired. Kolyat was likely still taking care of the edge patrols… 

The salarian pulled, jerking his hand inside Bone’s chest and things began to feel wrong inside. He felt as if things were suddenly dimming and only one thought stuck in his mind as his world reeled. He’d never been able to save someone-- not even the one he’d loved-- but this time he wasn’t gonna fail.

He tugged his hand free of the rope, sliding it out easily-- and threw the dart with everything he had. 

~~~

Kolyat kept the choke hold up for likely a little longer than was necessary-- trusting Haron was okay even as the gunfire broke the silence. They had to have an exit for once they got the boy and Kolyat had agreed to take care of that. 

After dragging the limp body over to the rest, Kolyat sprinted over to see just as Bones made a throwing motion towards the batarian. Kolyat realized that Bones had used the dart to save the boy instead of himself when the batarian sagged and dropped to the ground. Yet then the boy ran in the one direction that definitely wasn’t safe as he screamed in a raw sounding voice, “Bones!” 

The salarian jerked his hand back and turned-- blood smeared on his face and blended with his marking to make him look truly terrifying as he gave a triumphant smile. Kolyat felt ill when he realized that it was Bones’ heart still held in the salarian’s hand. It beat sluggishly and unstopping even as Bones crumpled to the ground with open eyes. Haron-- too slow-- was limping towards the kid yelling for him to stay back. Too slow.  _ Too slow _ . Kolyat knew that no matter how fast Haron was he could never get there in time as the salarian advanced on the boy.

Then a crack range out, splitting the air. For a moment it seemed nothing happened but then the salarian teetered and crumpled. The boy, Cael, kept going-- grabbing the heart from the salarian’s limp hand on his way by. Wondering about the shot, Kolyat turned and searched for the source. 

Standing nearby was his dad. Niia held his coattails staring at the chaos and Calamity was already running past and towards Bones.

Kolyat’s mouth suddenly felt far too dry as he croaked, “dad?”

“Kolyat, are you alright?”

A sobbing howl issued from one of the children. 

Kolyat didn’t answer his father, instead joining Haron as he limped over to the kids. To his surprise he saw that Cael was not, in fact, a turian as he’d been lead to believe by Niia claiming him to be her brother. He was a young human boy with dark red-brown skin and wild curly hair but he had the same clan markings as Niia rather crudely drawn on in a now smudged white paint. Calamity was sobbing, hands covered in blood as she tried to press the gaping hole closed in Bones’ chest. Cael simply sat there, a numb expression on his face as he stared at Bones’ open silver eyes.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Thane placed a hand on Kolyat’s shoulder. “Kolyat?”

This  _ wasn’t _ how it was supposed to go. Kolyat felt the bile rise in his throat and memories of his mother’s body hazed over his vision no matter how hard he tried to hold them back.  _ This wasn’t how it was ever supposed to go _ .

Haron was trying to move the kids. Cael screaming that it was his fault because he’d gotten injured. His father’s friend-- Zaeed-- stood over the body as Calamity hugged onto Zaeed’s leg and sobbed into the obnoxiously colored yellow armor. 

Bones blinked.

A gasp wrenched through the air as Bones moved. It wasn’t  _ possible _ but he moved and the children all moved in on him like varren on a fresh kill. His arms shook but he dragged himself up and held them against him even after he returned to being unconscious.

“That’s… one hell of a party trick,” Zaeed said as he came to stand next to Kolyat’s father. 

Niia looked up, letting go of her brother as she marched over. “You can’t tell  _ secrets _ . ...Promise.”

Zaeed, rather surprisingly, knelt down and made a crossing motion over his chest. “Cross my heart, I won’t breathe a word.”

When Niia ran off to huddle with her ‘brother’ once more Zaeed muttered quietly to Thane, “Not even Shepard would believe this shit.”

To his surprise, he heard his father chuckle. “No. I’m not sure I believe it myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last up is the wrap up for this section but whew! What a ride! ^_^ Thanks for readin! I hope you enjoyed this and are ready for the next arc with these terrors!


	6. Chapter 6

 

Thane sat, quietly monitoring his breathing as he watched the afterparty. The man who’d appeared at random on the Normandy had performed another impossible feat and was already up and limping around-- though if Thane remembered correctly his limp had been somewhat less pronounced before. Still, it was quite a feat to return from the dead.

It would explain how the man escaped after Shepard shot him. 

Thane harbored no grudge for that though-- simply curiosity. Curiosity that grew as Bones passed out drinks and then carefully carried one towards Thane even after the others offered to do it for him. Thane had certainly not asked for a drink-- though as parties go people tended to shove drinks into hands with abundance and this one didn’t seem any different now that the kids were asleep in Kolyat’s room.

There was also another curious question in his mind as Bones arrived and offered out the glass with a smile, “Here.”

Thane stared at it, judging it and weighing options before he accepted-- his hand purposefully gripping Bones’ as well as the cup as he leaned in and spoke quietly, “So, was it poison? Or simply a drug?”

Bones blinked, his expression balking from friendly to confusion to fear as his eyes darted to the others who did not seem to notice their exchange. 

Thane took the drink but did not retreat. “I’m sure you are aware that drell can filter most toxins naturally.”

“Ah…” Bones looked around before spotting and pointing at the balcony, “mind talking out there?”

It would be no issue to shove someone off the edge but Bones was injured-- though he would live if the night’s events were any indication-- and Thane was currently much faster even with his deteriorating condition. An even match and even risk. He gave a dip of his head.

Bones lead the way, leaning heavy on the walls as they went. They were quiet till they got out and Bones leaned against the rail as he said, “You’re ill. Dying.”

“I’m aware but I have no desire for a mercy killing just yet.”

“You think that’s what that is?” Bones asked with a twisted grin like someone trying to smile past too much pain. Though… that may have been the case. Bones looked away, shaking his head as he huffed a sigh, “Hear me out. You don’t want it then pour it over the edge and I’ll never say anything again. Calamity told me a little of what happened and whatever it was you said to Niia-- she already cares for you about as much as she cares for Cael. These kids… they don’t need people leaving them. They need people who care and are  _ there _ .”

Thane set the cup down on the rail. It sat between them like a loaded gun and they both stared at it as he said, “There is no cure for Keprals. I  _ am _ dying.”

Bones looked away, “I can’t cure it. Not right now. But--” When Bones looked up this time, meeting his eyes, “I can stop it from getting worse. I owe you that much after what you did for us tonight.”

There was a temptation to take the cup-- a slim chance that he’d have more time to reconnect with Kolyat-- but Thane held back. His hands remained behind his back as he asked, “So your healing can extend to others?”

“To a point.” Bones looked away, “It takes effort and a connection. ...it wasn’t poison. It was blood which...sounds gross, I know, but I’d hoped to do it without you noticing. Though… I’ll be honest, if you wanted your illness to truly halt then we’d need to do this regularly.”

“And…” Thane slowly picked up the cup. He wasn’t sure if he was convinced but for Kolyat… “you say you are doing this for the child, Niia? Not Kolyat?”

Bones looked surprised. As if the thought hadn’t been there before. “Kolyat? I suppose he’s the same race but I wasn’t aware you knew each other.”

Thane arched a brow at that. “Then you are unaware that he is my son?”

“Son?” Bones actually looked truly surprised, his face rather open with his expression as he wandered over and sat heavily, “he doesn’t look… oh… you must have thought I did it on purpose. Hah, what are the odds?”

“Extremely low.” Thane answered. “... How did you meet Kolyat?”

Bones had been rubbing his face and he stopped, staring out over the city, but likely he was seeing a memory and not the view. “He saved my life or, well, about as close as that gets. I ran into that salarian a few weeks ago while, ah, the uh, kids…”

“I’m well aware of how duct rats typically survive.”

“Ah… yeah…” Bones flashed him a small smile, “so stealing. They call it shopping but I don’t make enough with the little jobs I’ve been taking to be able to afford much. Mostly we buy Niia’s food and steal the rest. I was watching the exit point when I got caught by one of the anti-human groups. They tore me up pretty good before Kolyat dragged me here to Chloe. ...not a lot of people do that for others, here or otherwise…”

Kolyat had saved Bones? How little he seemed to know about his son… He often regretted not  being part of Kolyat’s life until now. Knowing that he was dying hadn’t even been the push to get him to seek out his son. No, it had been thinking that Kolyat was going to lose himself to a similar dark path, but there was still such a gap… 

He held up the cup, staring at it as he realized that this was one more chance being offered. He’d turned down the lung transplant before reconnecting with Kolyat because there were people much better than him that deserved hope and chance to live longer. Never had he seen himself as more than… a tool. Now the chance to live longer was being set on the table with the chance to try being more. Family. Friend.  

But first...

“You seem very attached to these children.” Thane stated, cradling the cup as he sat carefully on a nearby chair facing Bones. “May I ask what you intend with them?”

“Intend?” Bones’ brows snapped together. “Like am I using them?”

“Yes.”

Bones looked over his shoulder, back towards Kolyat’s room before he shook his head and dropped his gaze back to the ground. “No. Enough of that in the world already. They actually found me--” he gestured with a wave at the skyline but nowhere in particular-- “I fell off the docking area. Slipped. Like I said, it seems so rare to have people help each other. They found me, helped, and let me stay. I’m not their parent,  _ I know, _ but they… I like to think they need me as much as I need them. I don’t know. ...part of me wishes I could give them a home. I guess till they tell me to leave I’ll keep coming back.”

“You care for them?”

“I died for them,” Bones said his smile strained. Fear and honesty seemed to combine in equal parts over the human’s face as he said, “And I’d do it again to keep them safe.”

“Why?”

Bones shook his head.

Thane held up the drink. “This requires more trust than I normally allow people. Few have earned my respect or trust...”

The rest was unsaid but Bones seemed to understand. He sighed before pulling off the glove that had been covering his scarred hand. “I was a street kid. Parents didn’t want a mutant. Power manifested when I was a kid... pulled something off the stove. Should have died. They gave me to a science facility that studied mutants. I escaped. I… I never wanted a family because I never wanted to be my parents. Grew up thinking people were rubbish but I met someone who sort of turned things around for me. I had a home. Friends.”

There was a pause to Bones’ speech as if he was warring with himself. By the expression, Thane was pretty sure he knew exactly what Bones wasn’t saying. Love. But it had been ripped away and that wound was still open. It had been the same for him and Irikah. The hurt was there on Bones’ far too open and expressive face, but Thane dared not press into something so private. 

Bones took a shaky breath. “He made me want to be a better person. Actually helped me discover I could heal people and suggested I mix it into drinks. Bartending…” he shook his head, smile rueful and longing, “they called me the Boneyard medic but people usually amounted it to good luck since no one knew. Cancer goes into remission, wounds heal a little quicker… little things. …I-- These kids, they deserve better than this.”

“I see. In that case, perhaps we can help each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone like the story? Always feel a bit like I'm posting into the void with these but I hope y'all enjoyed it. The next part is coming soon! Also, let's admit it, Calamity stole the show and I love her. I actually pulled her out of another original story I was writing and she's really blossomed as a character (more-so in future stuff) and honestly I just love the little terror.


End file.
